CHANGE OF LIFE a Silver Creek Christmas TEN
by GStales
Summary: Written several years after the original COL series, this installment takes place at Christmas time, shortly before the twins turn two.
1. Chapter 1

**Change of Life**

**A Silver Creek Christmas Story **

**One**

Chaos was the order of the kitchen. Three nearly two-year olds were banging on pots and pans with great wooden spoons as they sat on the floor next to the cupboard. Standing on a chair, leaning against the counter with her fingers in the mixing bowl was six-year-old Hannah Rose Roniger. She was dusted with baking flour, while her chubby fingers were glued together by sugar cookie dough. The dog, a terrier mix named Puppy was enthusiastically licking up the crumbs, which had fallen from her hands to the floor below.

Sitting at the table none too gracefully were Christopher Greenwood Dillon and the Roniger triplets, Benny, Timmy and Tommy. The boys had managed to combine the red and green icings together turning the mix to a dull brown. Bored with decorating cookies they had begun to decorate each other with moustaches and sugary eyebrows.

A work weary Kitty surveyed the scene with a sense of desperation, a saloon full of rowdy cowboys had never created a challenge greater than the one before her now. "Children." She said sternly. "Settle down."

Little Jimmy Dillon stood, letting his pot drum fall to the floor with a clatter. Clenching his fists and grunting, he squatted a bit as his face turned red.

His twin sister Bethy, studied him for a moment, "Poo-peeeee." She declared pointing a little finger in the direction of Jimmy's bottom. "Jimmy do pooo-peeeeee."

"No-no." Kitty cried rushing to the toddler. "In the potty Jimmy ... make poopies in the potty." She arrived too late, the deed had already been accomplished. She picked the little boy up holding him at arms length hoping to save her clothing.

"Oooo wee." Tommy Roniger declared. "Jimmy stunk up the whole kitchen. Good one Jimmy!" The other boys agreed making a great show of holding their noses while loudly commenting on the odor.

Regina Roniger, getting in the spirit of the moment began banging her pot chanting, "Jim-meeee poo-pee, Jim-meeee poo-pee..." Bethy picked up her wooden spoon and joined in.

The door opened from the bedroom adjacent to the kitchen. "What's going on out here?" A grumpy voiced Doc said, "Good heavens Kitty, can't you keep those children under control? I need my afternoon nap."

Sensing an all out free-for-all, Puppy started barking and running around the kitchen joining in the commotion.

It was at that moment Matt Dillon chose to enter his home with his trusty ranch hand Festus Hagen at his side. They'd had a long day, Matt's back was sore and his joints ached with the cold. His usual good humor had retreated to the wayside that morning when he'd found out Bessie Roniger had gone into labor six weeks early, thereby spoiling his Christmas surprise for his wife. If truth be told, the present was as much for him as it was for Kitty. In the last two years, since the birth of the twins, time together had been at a premium. In fact, he could count on the fingers of one hand the times he had made love to his wife in the last six months. In hopes of rectifying the situation, he had purchased two train tickets to St Louis for the week after Christmas. Mrs. Roniger had promised to watch the children while they were gone. Now Bessie had spoiled his plan and although he knew it was unreasonable, Dillon took it personally. It seemed the only thing he had to look forward to was a decent meal. But, he soon realized supper was not in the plan as he opened the door to the mayhem inside. "All of you, Hold it right there!" The former lawman ordered.

Every eye turned to Dillon. The room was quiet for just a moment before the bedlam returned. Puppy in his excitement ran to Dillon and lifted a leg to the big man's boot. Dillon gave the dog a look of tolerant disgust. His footwear had been abused enough for one day by cow manure and horse dung. "Hey, stop that." He picked the little animal up and tossed him out the back door. "Take care of your business outside." He ordered. Turning back to his wife he asked, "Where's supper?"

"Supper?" she repeated glancing at the large clock ticking away on the kitchen wall. "I lost track of time. I forgot all about supper."

"How can you forget about supper, look here Kitty, Festus and I are hungry, we've been working hard all day with only those cold sandwiches you served this noon. You've been doing nothing but playing with the children."

"Playing with the children?! You think this is just a big game in here and we're all having a party?"

He wasn't in the mood to argue with her, he just wanted to eat and go to bed. "Humph." he grumbled. "I suppose its more cold sandwiches or starve." he moved to the cupboard but she stopped him before he opened the breadbox.

She set Jimmy back to the floor as she explained, "I fed the last of the bread to the boys this afternoon, they were hungry after they came in from sledding."

The big guy's stomach rumbled loud enough for everyone to hear, his frown deepened while surveying the kitchen disaster scene. From his bedroom door the elderly physician voiced a concern, "something smells like its burning."

Kitty's hands flew to her face. "MY COOKIES!" She whirled around and dashed to the cook stove. Using her apron as a pot holder she removed the tray of scorched cookies.

The kitchen was fragranced by Jimmy's dirty diaper and the burned cookie remains. Having been called upon to change a diaper once or twice since moving out to the Dillon ranch, Festus Hagen opted for a quick escape, "Matthew, I got me some salt pork and beans down at the bunk house. Looks to me like Miss Kitty's gonna have her hands full fer a spell, why don't me and you and ol' Doc there fend fer ourselves tonight."

Dillon opened his mouth, ready to say something, but changed his mind, looking in Adams direction he asked. "You comin'?"

When the men left, Kitty plopped down on a kitchen chair, she was caught somewhere between an urge to laugh hysterically or cry her eyes out. Regina Roniger toddled up to her and patted her stomach. "Baby?" she asked. "Baby."

Hanna Rose, who was beginning to have an understanding for the trials and tribulations of womanhood on the frontier, gently took her little sister's hand. "No, no `Gina.. Miss Kitty doesn't have a baby in her fat tummy, it's Ma who gots the baby."

Kitty looked down at her lax abdomen and sucked in her stomach. It didn't make much difference. After carrying twins her stomach muscles seemed to have lost their will to follow orders.

Christopher moved to stand beside her; he placed a consoling hand to her shoulder. "I'm sorry Mama; I guess we got carried away."

She looked up at his frosting mustached face and couldn't help but give him a weak smile. "I guess we'd best get things cleaned up in here. You big boys see what you can do. Hanna Rose, you keep an eye on Bethy and Regina while I tend to Jimmy."

**GS GS GS**

Order had been restored to the Dillon house, she had fed the children scrambled eggs and baking powder biscuits and tucked every last one of them snug in a bed. She wiped the last of the dishes and set it in place then glanced out the kitchen window, a blanket of snow covered the yard and beyond where the light burned brightly in the bunk house. Doc and Matt hadn't returned yet and she could only surmise they were still enjoying Hagen hospitality, which, more than likely included a jug of Ollie Tatum's finest corn liquor. She sighed and pushed the red bangs off her forehead.

Things usually ran much smoother than they had today. The addition of Bessie's triplets, Hanna Rose and Regina certainly put a crimp in her routine. She thought of her friend and wondered if the new baby had arrived yet. How Bessie managed with a house full of kids, Kitty had no idea. How she managed to have time and energy to spend with her husband to produce more children was nothing sort of a miracle to Kitty.

A change of life had occurred when Matt Dillon had asked her to marry him, and she would not trade places with anyone, especially not the Kitty she had once been. But every so often, especially on days like today, the thought of her old ways at the Long Branch brought a wistful sadness to her heart. The sound of sleigh and bells drew her attention away from the bunk house.

"Company!" she thought as she slicked her hair into place and tucked in her shirtwaist. She answered the knock immediately startling the visitor with her promptness.

"Merry Christmas Miss Kitty!" Her guest announced.

"Sam!" she cried with genuine delight. "What brings you out here?" She took his elbow and escorted him in the house. "Can I get you something? Coffee or whiskey? It's mighty cold out there."

"No thanks Miss Kitty, I'm fine."

"Considering the time of night, I'm guessing this isn't a social call. What's wrong Sam?"

With a smile, Sam admitted, "You know me too well. Miss Hannah was taken ill. Doc Bledsoe says its pneumonia. He says she'll have to rest and take it easy for at least two weeks. Now, Miss Kitty you know I'd do anything for you and Miss Hannah, but I've been planning on spending Christmas with my sister and her family back East. I haven't seen her in ten years."

"I remember you telling me about your trip, what does this have to do with me?"

"Miss Kitty, someone has to look after the Long Branch."

She looked at him, then looked down at herself, "Sam!? Surely you don't expect me to do it?"

"Miss Kitty you still own fifty-five percent of the place. The way I see it, you've got to do it. If you don't who is going to protect your investment?"

"It's been over two and a half years since I worked in the saloon. I'm a mother now. I have responsibilities. I'm sorry, but you will just have to find someone else."

The back door opened and Dillon walked in. "Find someone else for what?" Dillon asked.

"Sam wants me to come back to the Long Branch while he's away and Miss Hannah is recovering from the pneumonia."

The idea of Kitty working at the Long Branch made him chuckle out loud but the look on Kitty's face made him stop.

She frowned, "What are you laughing at Sunshine? Don't you think I could still do it? Maybe you think I'm too old, or not pretty enough to attract business."

"Now, that wasn't what I meant."

"What _did_ you mean by laughing then?"

" Kitty you have to admit the notion is ridiculous. And what about the children..."

"If memory serves me, you think it's child's play to take care of the children, so here's your chance for a little fun and games Cowboy."

"I forbid you to go!" As soon as he said the word _forbid_, he knew he'd made a mistake.

Her voice rose in volume and pitch, "You what?"

It could have been the way the lamplight was hitting her, but Matt Dillon swore he saw sparks fly from her red mane.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

Kitty Russell Dillon returned to the Long Branch two days later. By that time the Roniger children had been sent back home to meet the newest addition to the family - an eight-pound baby boy named Curtis.

In the interim a truce bordering on a cold war had existed between man and wife. Dillon was plainly upset with his spouse for what he saw as abandonment of the family. Kitty contended her actions were no different than the numerous trips Dillon had taken in the past two years for ranch business. She also reminded him she had not spent one night away from home since the twins had been born. She had tried to explain her reasoning to him, "I have a responsibility to Miss Hannah and to Sam. The Long Branch is their livelihood."

He remained firm in his resolve. "Your first responsibility is to your children."

Her reply had been a tad bit too smug for his liking. "Isn't it lucky I can leave secure in the knowledge their father will take good care of them in my absence?"

Sam had arrived early in the morning to bring her to town. A somber Christopher had planted a kiss on her cheek, and the babies had wailed as her sleigh pulled out of the yard and down the road. Her husband standing in the yard with a toddler on each hip and a scowl on his face had said very little. However, he had eyed her with a wounded look that all but made her turn around. Then she recalled how he had laughed at the idea of her returning to the `business world' and actually `forbid' her to leave.

She had returned his hurt look with a raised eyebrow. "I'm sure you will do just fine without me. I won't be gone any longer than I need to be." She took the hand Sam offered and climbed into the sleigh. "I'm ready to go now." She had said, and they left without as much as a backward look.

Sam had glanced in Kitty's direction as he turned the sleigh onto the Silver Creek Road. She was dabbing at her eyes and sniffling loudly. The old bartender felt a huge pang of guilt. He was not a selfish man by nature. Taking Miss Kitty away from her family, especially at this time of year seemed a cruel act, but he forced himself to remember he wasn't getting any younger, nor was his sister and they deserved at least one last happy Christmas together.

The redheaded lady turned to meet his look. She smiled, "Must be that icy wind today that's bringing these tears to my eyes."

He reached in a pocket and withdrew a clean handkerchief, handing it to her, he agreed. "Yes Ma`am, that icy wind will do it every time."

Dillon stood watching the sleigh pull out and down the road. Words and emotions were always hard for the big man and he was at a complete loss to describe or explain what he felt. A part of him had always wondered if she had secretly longed for the life she'd left behind. Now her actions seemed to confirm his worst suspicion. She was sorry she had married him. He jiggled the children in his arms in an attempt to quiet their howling. He remembered that action had always worked when they were infants. The movement had the opposite effect now. "Mama." they cried in duet. "Maaaamaaaa."

Despite a hot brick for her feet and a warm silver fox muff for her hands she was bone cold when they reached Dodge City. In truth that condition was due to the absence of the one man who had the power to warm her spirit. Each step of the horse had exacerbated an already acute heartache.

**GS GS GS**

The room she was to occupy at the saloon was the smallest cubicle. In the early days of the Long Branch its purpose had been primarily business related, later it had functioned as a storage room. A bed sagging in the middle from overworked springs, a broken hinged wardrobe and a dresser with a cracked mirror were its only furnishings. "Miss Leticia and Miss Winifred have the other rooms, and of course Miss Hannah is in your old room... since you're only going to be here for a short spell, it didn't seem right to make them move out."

"Of course not Sam," she replied. "This will be fine, but see if you can find me a nice chair and a decent mirror."

"I'm sorry, but I can't Miss Kitty, I have to catch the 10:30 train. I'll have just enough time to bring up your bags and trunk. But, you just ask Miss Lettie for anything you need."

By noon that day Kitty was settled in her room. Her gowns were carefully hung in the small corner wardrobe. Her brushes and combs were laid out on the dresser top and a case containing French talc powders for her face along with rouge and eye kohl was propped on the bed ready for use.

She had visited Miss Hannah soon after her arrival. The older lady apologized for taking Kitty away from her family and thanked her profusely, explaining Lettie and Winnie were fine saloon gals, but they had absolutely no head for business, and would derail their train of thought at the least little attention from a handsome rancher.

It was a challenge changing into her hostess wear. Kitty hadn't worn any of her work gowns since she had married Matt. She wasn't even sure they would still fit, since her figure seemed to have redistributed itself. She picked the orange dress with the sequined top. It had always had a little 'give' to it and the lines had been forgiving of an occasional extra pound. It took a tighter corset lacing than she was used to, but the dress did fit. Even in the cracked mirror she could tell she looked good in it. She wasn't used to doing her hair in anything more elaborate than a twisted bun, and it took several attempts for her to arrange it in a flattering fashion.

She carefully dusted her face with the expensive powders. The French talc worked like magic making freckles and dark circles disappear. She outlined her eyes with the kohl; then brightened her cheeks and lips with a rich shade of rouge. The end result was a complete transformation from rancher's wife to saloon beauty. She couldn't help but admit to herself it felt good to look pretty and desirable again.

**GS GS GS**

Meanwhile back at the ranch, by the following morning, Matt Dillon had run out of clean diapers and was searching the house for anything he could use in place of the soiled nappies. He considered it sheer good fortune when he came across Kitty's fine linen table cloth.

"Good Heaven's Matt! Kitty's not going to be happy about that!" Adams warned as he watched the younger man rip the cloth in uneven rectangles.

"I don't care what makes Kitty happy; we've got to do something until one of us can wash out those ... `things' over there in the bucket." Adams looked in the corner by the door where a pail was piled high with odiferous soiled diapers.

Matt ripped the last lopsided square and set it on top of the diaper stack. "You get Bethy, and I'll see if I can capture Jimmy."

The twins were running around the house with their soggy diapers at half mast, a circumstance which caused added chafing to their already chapped behinds. Adams made a move to the little girl; she giggled and ran away from him. "Catch, catch." She squealed anticipating a game. The old man realized if he was to have any hope of catching the child he'd have to bribe her. He offered all manner of treats but she was finally bought off by the promise of a story from her picture book if she would sit on the potty chair.

"Wead Doc..." she lisped. "Wead `thory." Despite his age and arthritic joints Adams lowered himself to the floor next to the little wooden potty chair and proceeded to recite her favorite tale, "Once upon a time in a land far away there were three Billy Goats Gruff."

"What namth?" She asked, already knowing his answer for they'd played this before.

"Papa, Festus and Doc", he replied. "The three Billy goats gruff."

Jimmy was more of a challenge for his father. The little boy had no patience for sitting on the potty chair while waiting for something to happen. He was much happier making things happen. He was a busy child, into everything, never staying still for long. He loved to build towers with his blocks and knock them down sending wooden missiles flying around the room. Nothing was safe from his investigation, and Kitty had learned to keep special knickknacks on high shelves away from his inquisitive fingers. Unlike Bethy he was not easily coerced into doing what his parents deemed appropriate behavior. He was perfectly satisfied with his dirty diapers and seemed to take satisfaction in the smell they produced. Furthermore, he saw the potty chair as a mortal enemy waiting to rob him of what was his.

Being an intelligent child, he was fully aware of his father's plan and was prepared to do his utmost to avoid being taken into custody. It took Dillon a full twenty minutes before he had Jimmy sitting on his potty chair. By that time Bethy, much to Doc's satisfaction had 'used' her potty chair. Adams had cleaned her up, oiled her chapped bottom and garbed her in a fresh linen-tablecloth diaper.

Jimmy didn't have the same success and no matter how Matt demonstrated grunting and squeezing not a single poopy was produced.

When Doc declared, "lunch on the table." Dillon admitted defeat. He diapered James and was pulling the high chairs to the table when he heard Bethy announce, "Jim-meeee poo-peeee."


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

Two weeks! Dr. Bledsoe had explained how important it was for Kitty to remain at the Long Branch until Miss Hannah was well. "Two weeks," he had told her. "It will take two weeks until she is ready to resume her responsibilities running the saloon."

Two weeks. In two weeks it would be Christmas Eve. This would be the first Christmas her babies would have any idea what was going on. Last year they had been fascinated by the candle glow from the lights decorating the tree. This year it would be the tree and decorations, which would catch their fancy and she longed to be home to share in their excitement.

There was so much to do before the big day. She had promised Christopher they would make cookies together for the bake sale, which traditionally followed the Christmas pageant at school. She had presents to wrap, Christmas postcards to write and send out and a whole myriad of little details to finish before the holidays. The only good thing about being at the Long Branch was the fact Matt's Christmas present was supposed to be mailed to her at that address. Nearly a year earlier she had ordered a jacket to be made for him out of buckskin leather, she had hired a leather smith in Denver, and through exchanged letters he knew the exact size and style Kitty wanted. But it was a long process to find just the right pieces of leather for it would take several hides to make a jacket large enough for Matt Dillon. She had been waiting anxiously for the last month for word from Hannah that the package had arrived. The previous week she'd sent a letter to Ollie O'Shea asking him when she could expect the garment. With such a short time left before Christmas she began to doubt the present would arrive in time.

She looked around the small cubical that was to be her room for the next two weeks and heaved a sorry sigh. Fingering the slim gold band on her finger, she thought of her husband and wondered how he was coping. She bit her lip and suppressed a smile. This wasn't fair to him; he really had no idea how to cope with the twins. Oh, the twins, how she longed to hold them to her bosom. And Christopher, that door banging, constant chattering, eternal motion child of her heart, what was he up to? Her arms felt so empty without her family to fill them. She sighed again, straightened her shoulders, she put a smile on her lips and left the room. 'Two weeks', she told herself was not forever. She could endure anything for two weeks for if Kitty had learned a life lesson in her long relationship with the former Marshal of Dodge City it was the art of dismissing worrisome thoughts from her mind in order to focus on the present.

Business was good on her first night back in Dodge. She supposed word had spread, as it usually did in a small community that she had returned to the Long Branch. Knowing gossip and gossipers she could only imagine what direction the tales were taking.

True to form, Kitty planned on giving neither fuel nor fodder to the rumor mongers. She knew from past experience people believed what they wanted, denials or admissions did little to change that.

**GS GS GS**

Her feet hurt, her back was sore and she had a reddening welt on her bottom where some cowboy had taken the liberty of giving her a pinch. But, she had played her part well, never letting on to the little aches and pains of body and heart. With long practiced ease, she treated each customer as a guest, whether he smelled of cow dung or bay rum. She was rewarded with, "Sure is good to have you back at the Long Branch Miss Kitty." The happy refrain was repeated throughout the night.

So it was with surprising ease, Kitty fell back into her role as saloon mistress, while Matt learned first hand what it took to be a full time mother. At night he fell into bed, exhausted, only to be awakened by a toddler's bad dreams and boogie men. It was on the second night that he heard crying from the twins' room. He nudged at the empty pillow next to him. "Kitty, get up. One of the kids is awake." It took him a moment before he remembered he was alone in the room.

"Maamaa," little Bethy wailed as he picked her up. She struggled in his arms, trying to twist her way free. "Maamaa." she demanded.

If patience in a man is a virtue, than Matt Dillon proved his noble nature that night. "Shhhh Mama isn't home, remember? But, Papa's here." As he had heard Kitty say so many times before, he cooed comforting words to the little girl in his arms. "Put your heady down, God is in the heavens and all is right with the world." He lowered his massive frame into Kitty's dainty rocking chair as Bethy popped her thumb in her mouth. Her sobs quieted and soon she was asleep.

**GS GS GS**

The Dodge City Public school was housed in a red brick building on the edge of town. There were three classrooms. Grades First through Fourth were in one room, Fifth to Eighth in another and the senior students in the third. Bonnie Bowman, a fresh-faced, eager woman of early middle years was the teacher for the youngest set. A snowstorm had forced the school to be closed for several days. Now as director of the annual school production, she was busy trying to make up for lost time and organize the Christmas Pageant.

The roles of Mary and Joseph always went to one of the older children so they would show up well from the stage. The wise men and shepherds were the eleven and twelve year olds. The youngest children played the sheep. The nine and ten year olds were either the stable creatures or the angels. Other than the roles of Mary and Joseph the part of the lead angel was the most coveted role in the pageant and because she was garbed in white and wings it was about as glamorous as a child could expect to become in a cow town. Historically, the prettiest little girl was chosen for the part.

Seated smugly in their side-by-side seats at the front row of the class were nine and ten year old, Lavinia and Hortense Harris. They were beautiful golden haired children always dressed in the finest of gowns, the styles of which were taken from the pages of the Ladies Home Companion and fashioned by the skilful hand of town seamstress Mary Helgemoe.

Last Christmas pageant they had been part of the heavenly host and their stepmother Susan Bart Harris had hired the dressmaker to make them the most elaborate costumes money could buy. Sterling, the girls' father had been aghast when he'd received the bill from Miss Helgemoe, but Susan had soothed him by explaining his daughters would be able to wear their costumes for several years, and no doubt each would be chosen to play the part of the lead angel at some point in their elementary school careers. Harris was pleased to see his wife take an interest in his children and said no more about the matter. Now Hortense and Lavinia were anticipating Dodge City stardom; they preened their curls and giggled barely able to contain themselves.

Miss Bowman standing in front of her desk, had already delegated the roles of donkey, cow and camel. She looked down to her paper and read, "Christopher Dillon." he sat straighter at the mention of his name. "You will play the lead angel."

There was a collective gasp from the classroom. Hortense Harris nearly swooned and the Roniger boys hooted and hollered in their seats. Benny bellowed in a singsong taunt, "Christopher got a girls part." The remark sent the rest of the classroom into a rollicking chorus of the same melody.

Christopher's face blossomed red and his ears burned. He turned with narrowed eyes at his friend and hissed, "Well at least I'm not playing the back end of a jack ass." The classroom erupted in waves of laughter.

Miss Bowman rapped her ruler on the desk. "Children! That will be enough! Children!" Her mild mannered voice took on uncharacteristic firmness, which caught the classroom's attention.

Christopher raised his hand.

"Yes." Miss Bowman questioned.

He stood up next to his desk and asked, "Why do I have to play a girl's part?"

She hadn't expected mutiny from one of her favorite students, "Why Christopher, the most important angels in the Bible have been men - the Archangel Michael and Gabriel the Messenger. This is a very important part. You have the main speaking role. I want someone who will do a grand job."

"But..."

The classroom showed signs of another uprising and Miss Bowman knew she had to be firm or anarchy would rule, "No `buts' young man. You are going to be the lead angel." Turning to the class she directed, "Now boys and girls, be sure to tell your mothers what parts you will be playing in the Christmas Pageant so they can provide appropriate garb.

Christopher sat at his desk shaking his head back and forth. An angel, he couldn't believe it. There was no way he could tell this news to Marshal, Festus or Doc; they'd laugh at him harder than the Roniger triplets.

In their seat at the front of the room Hortense and Lavinia turned their heads to eye their adversary with a hateful look. "It's not fair," Hortense whispered nearly in tears.

"Just wait until Mother hears about this." Lavinia hissed back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

The cloakroom smelled of wet wool mittens and stale lunch buckets. School was out and there was a flurry of activity around the little boy who sat on the floor pulling up his galoshes. Standing in front of him were blue eyed, blond haired Hortense and Lavinia Harris. The two little girls looked scornfully down at Christopher, "Well you maybe the head angel, but all eyes will be on me and Hortense because we will be beautiful. In case you forgot Christopher, Miss Helgemoe fashioned for us the most magnificent angel gowns ever last year, complete with gossamer wings and golden halos."

Lavinia ran a hand under her long honey colored curls making a show of flipping them in the air. "Yes, our Papa always calls us his 'little angels' because we are so pretty."

Hortense sneered, "Christopher you are going to be the ugliest angel in the whole history of Dodge City Public School. Who ever heard of a boy being the head angel?! I bet you'll show up in some dumb old costume, cause you haven't even got a Ma to make sure you have a nice one."

Scrambling to his feet, Christopher bristled, "I have too! I have Miss Kitty, she's my mother now."

Hortense nudged Lavinia and scoffed, "She's back working in the saloon! I heard Mother telling Papa that she figured it would happen." In a near perfect mimic of her stepmother, Susan Bart Harris, Lavinia taunted, "Once a saloon tramp always a saloon tramp."

Christopher balled his fists in anger, "You take that back!"

"Won't neither, `cause it's true, and you know it Christopher."

Moving his face in front of hers, he said, "Is not, is not!"

Standing in the cloakroom doorway, Miss Bowman eyed the situation, "Children, what's going on in here?" Knowing the nature of the relationship between Christopher and the Harris girls, the young teacher sought to defuse a volatile situation, "Hortense, Lavinia your father is waiting for you."

"Yes Miss Bowman." the two girls chorused. As they walked past Christopher, Hortense stuck out her tongue, while Lavinia hissed. "She is too."

**GS GS GS**

Matt Dillon had finally gotten the twins down for a nap. He wanted nothing more than to sleep right along with him. But, he still had chores to do. The wash was finished but the drying diapers would require folding. They were strung from one end of the kitchen to the other. He had a chicken roasting in the oven and potatoes boiling on the stove top. He was peeling carrots when he heard the jingle bells of the Roniger's sleigh signaling Chris was being dropped off from school..

The back door slammed. "Shhhh." Matt warned. "Doc and the babies are napping."

Chris rolled his eyes and made a show of tiptoeing through the kitchen with boots muddied by winter slop. He threw his jacket on the floor, followed by soggy hat and wet mittens.

"Hey!" Dillon scolded. "I just washed that floor, take off those boots and hang up your gear."

The nine year old narrowed his eyes but did as he was told. Coming back to the kitchen he remarked with uncustomary sarcasm, "Nice apron Marshal."

Dillon scowled, and adjusted the ruffled garment so that his shirtfront was covered, just as the potatoes boiled over spilling scalding water down the stove to the floor. Dillon lifted the hot kettle from the burner. "Christopher, grab some rags!" From across the room, the little boy opened the drawer which contained the kitchen towels pulling it so hard its clean contents fell to the boot muddied floor.

"Oops!" he stated looking at the mess.

"Don't just stand there throw me that rag!" Dillon ordered.

Without hesitation, Chris tossed the towel but it fell short of its mark forcing Dillon to put the kettle back to the burner to grab the cloth. At contact with the hot stovetop the pot started boiling over again.

When the situation was under control Dillon turned to look at Christopher, who was half-heartedly stuffing the dirty towels back into the drawer. Reining in his temper, Matt decided a fresh approach was needed. "Well, that's taken care of. Set the table for me would you Chris?"

With a whine his adopted son responded, "I don't wanna, `sides that's women's work. Do I look like a girl?"

The last few days had taught the veteran cowboy a lesson or two, "Christopher, around here there isn't women's work and men's work, there's just work. You are expected to help."

To the big man's surprise, he saw tears welling in the boy's eyes. Standing his ground, Christopher stated, "I'm not gonna. I'm not gonna do it. I'm not a girl, and I'm not gonna do it."

"Fine. Then you can go right on up to your room. Give things some quiet thought and when you're ready to behave you're welcome to come back and join us for supper."

Christopher opened his mouth to say something, than shut it abruptly and ran from the kitchen and up the stairs to his bedroom. Puppy the dog ran up the stairs after him.

Once in the safety of his room the little boy let loose the tears. He wanted Miss Kitty; he didn't like it that she was away. It made him miss his own Mama all the more. He didn't like that she was working in a saloon, and he didn't like it that he was forced to defend her to the Harris girls. What's more, he didn't like the Harris girls.

Marshal wouldn't understand any of these feelings, of that Christopher was sure. He was so big and strong, how could he identify with a little boy's insecurities and loneliness. There was a wall of undefined emotion separating the two that neither man nor child had been able to completely break down.

Christopher sat on the floor with his head hidden in his drawn up knees, and his arms wrapped around his legs. Faithful Puppy nudged his wet nose under the child's arm. The boy raised his head and the dog licked away the tears.

**GS GS GS**

His stomach was growling, but there was no way he was going back downstairs. He sat on his bed trying to figure out what to do. Life had suddenly become so complicated. He tried to imagine what Miss Kitty would tell him. She would say, `Organize your thoughts Christopher, then proceed accordingly.` Well, he supposed the first problem he had to solve was what to wear for the Christmas pageant. He had to rig up some kind of angel costume. But what the heck did an angel wear?

Christopher reluctantly thought of Hortense and Lavinia. He tried to recall what the girls had worn the previous year. A vague recollection came to mind of shiny material and netting and sparkles that had been sewn onto the fabric. Certainly he wanted nothing to do with shine, sparkles and netting. He didn't want there to be any doubt he was a boy angel. He glanced around his room and his eyes stopped when they came to his pillowcase. "Sheets!" he whispered, smiling with relief, "I can use my sheets."

Pulling the bedclothes from the mattress he held them up and tried to figure where armholes would go, then using his pocketknife he cut two slits into the sheeting. Standing on a chair so he could look in the small mirror, which hung over his dresser, he tried his creation on. He had misjudged the placement of the openings. There was plenty of sheet left so he tried again. And again he had miscalculated. His top sheet was soon in tatters and he was forced to use the bottom. In the end his sheets were ruined and he was still without his angelic raiment.

He was mad at the whole world the next morning. He was so quiet at breakfast that Dillon worried he might be sick. The old doctor noticed too, and placed his hand to the child's forehead testing for a fever. "You alright Chris?" Doc asked. "Anything hurt; ears, throat, stomach?"

"Nothin' hurts Doc." he replied in an annoyed voice.

It didn't take a mother to tell something was bothering the boy. Asking Doc to keep an eye on the twins Dillon decided to drive Christopher to school himself. He was hoping for a chance to get the boy to talk about whatever was troubling him.

As they were seated side by side, Dillon offered, "You know, if something is worrying you, you could tell me?"

Christopher sullenly replied, "Nothin's wrong."

"Well, just so you know. I may not be able to fix what's wrong, but sometimes just having someone share in a burden makes for a lighter load."

The conversation ended there, much to Dillon's disappointment. A man of few words, he seemed to have found a match in his young son. After leaving the child off at the school, Matt decided to stop in at the Long Branch. He had an awful ache in his heart that only acertain red head could ease.

Double doors kept the wind and cold at bay, but the saloon was still a drafty place to be and only the near proximity of the pot-bellied stove kept Kitty Dillon's toes warm. She had completed inventory for the week and was busy working on the books when the front doors opened with a whoosh of cold air.

Business had been steady that morning, a constant stream of customers looking for a little bracer against the December chill. Without looking up, she hollered, "Shut the door, I can't afford to heat the outside too."

A smile pulled at the corner of his lips and his blue eyes softened at the sight of her. "Yes ma'am." He replied loud enough for her to hear.

Her head jerked up at the sound of his voice, her heart beating a staccato rhythm at the nearness of him. "Matt." She said standing and moving to him, "Oh Matt."

He removed his hat, slapping the snow from its brim against his thigh. "Got something there to warm a fella up?" He asked as she drew near.

Her eyes were shining. "Oh I think I can find something." She took his hand and led him to her table by the stove. "Matt, your hands are like ice!" She poured him a cup of hot coffee and offered him the mug, "here, wrap your hands around this."

His grin was decidedly boyish, "I can think of a few other things I'd rather wrap my hands around to warm them up."

She could feel the heat rise to her face as she locked eyes with him. The saloon suddenly seemed crowded, too full of people to say or do what her heart wanted most. Instead she asked, "How are the twins Matt? I've missed them so, and Christopher and Doc and Festus. How is everyone?"

"Everyone misses you honey. We need you Kitty."

"It won't be long, only another week. Matt, I know how unfair this has been to you. But, it has meant so much to Miss Hannah. You know, those girls she hired must have been giving drinks away for free. It's taken me all morning to get these books in order." She slammed the ledger closed and smiled into Dillon's face. "Tell me about Jimmy and Bethy."

"The twins are doing fine. They miss you, but between Doc and me we've kept them in clean diapers. Hey! Jimmy even used the potty chair the other day!"

"He did!"

"Yup!" Dillon replied proudly.

"And Christopher, how is he doing?"

"Well, Christopher is having some problems. I'm not sure what's going on with him. I guess he's just growing up some. Misses you - like the rest of us."

"Tell him I love him, would you Matt?"

Frustration born of hard work and lonely nights welled up in Dillon, "Listen Kitty, forget this foolishnesses and come home. This place can run itself for a few more days. We need you now."

"This is not foolishness. This is my business; I still own a share of this saloon. The Long Branch is our future as much as Silver Creek Ranch is."

"You are one stubborn woman to put this..." he made a wide sweeping gesture with his hand, "ahead of the needs of the people who count on you."

"Hannah and Sam count on me too." She reminded him.

He was well and truly angry now. Standing, he placed the snow dampened Stetson back on his head, "Thanks for the drink." He replied as he dug into his pocket for a coin to toss on the table. She picked up his money and looked at him with confusion on her face. "Wouldn't want to mess up your bookkeeping." He explained.


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

It was close to noon when Dillon arrived back at the ranch. Doc Adams exhausted from chasing after the twins, retired to his room after giving Matt a briefing on the babies' activities.

The big guy was in a foul mood and the children sensed it and responded by behaving in an uncommonly reasonable manner. As it happened Dillon had decided catch up on some of the washing that day. They were all running low on clean clothes. Checking Christopher's room he was surprised to find the boy's bed had no sheets on it. This was strange, and caused the former lawman concern, he decided to investigate further.

A child's favorite hiding place for anything contraband was under the bed, even Dillon knew this. With a curious Puppy watching and mimicking his actions, he bent over to investigate; sure enough there were the sheets wadded in a ball and shoved in the far corner near the wall. Dillon had to lay flat on the floor to pull them out. He clambered back to his feet and shook out the sheets. It was then that he discovered their sad shape. He was horrified to find them slashed in what he could only presume a violent manner.

Now, he was really concerned about Christopher. What was tormenting the child so much that he would resort to this aggression against his own sheets? He hurried down stairs and banged on Adams door. "Doc, get out here!" he ordered.

Adams, who had not been sleeping, but only hiding from the children rushed out, his heart was pounding in his chest, fearing some sort of disaster had happened to a twin. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Look." Dillon said as he held up the tattered sheet.

After serious discussion over coffee both men agreed Matt had to get to the bottom of Christopher's problem. Something was indeed disturbing this child, and who could say where or what this type of unprovoked violence would lead to.

Matt changed the sheets and not a word was said that night at supper. Christopher was subdued throughout the meal. He was hungry after missing last night's supper; so even Marshal's cooking was welcomed. He kept thinking about the afternoon's rehearsal and how he had come to realize what an important part he had been given in the pageant. Miss Yoman had told him it was an honor to be chosen to play the lead angel. Chris liked his teacher and he didn't want to let her down. He heaved a huge sigh without even realizing it.

The three men at the table exchanged worried looks. After the meal, Doc and Festus offered to do the clean up and watch the twins. Matt turned to Christopher and said, "Let's go down to the barn and see how Star is doing."

**GS GS GS**

Dillon leaned against the stall while Christopher offered the two year old filly a carrot. "She's grown in to a real beauty, you should be proud of yourself." Matt remarked.

"She's smart too, Marshal. Knows her name, watch." the little boy walked away to the far side of the enclosure and called to the filly. "Star!"

At the sound of her name, Star's ears twitched, with a nod of her head and a whinny, the young horse walked to Christopher and nuzzled him. The little boy giggled at the tickle of the velvet soft nose.

"Star trusts you." Dillon began. "She knows you wouldn't do anything to hurt her - knows you love her."

Chris nodded as he rubbed the special spot between the animal's ears. "I can't wait until I can ride her. You think she'll be ready by this spring."

"Might be..." Dillon paused. "You know Chris; I love you just like you love Star. I'd never let anything hurt you."

"I know Marshal."

"Then don't you think you can tell me what's making you so unhappy? Is it Miss Kitty being gone?"

Christopher turned to look at Dillon. "That's part of it."

"Is that why you slashed your sheets?"

His eyes widened and his cheeks flushed. "You found them?"

"Wasn't hard, they weren't on your bed, I figured they had to be somewhere."

"I meant to change them before you did."

"You gonna tell me what that was all about, were you taking your anger out on the sheets."

"Anger?! On the sheets? Why would I do that?"

"Well... I just reckoned, I mean..."

Good grief the little boy thought, Marshal thinks I've gone loony. Chris figured it was time for true confession, "Look Marshal, you know the Christmas Pageant is coming up at school? Well, I've been trying to make my costume, you see, I know how busy you are with the ranch and the twins and all and Mama being away and I didn't want to bother you…"

Dillon breathed a sigh of relief, "Is that all? Well, what are you going to be? A shepherd? One of the wise man?" He brightened thinking maybe Chris had landed a leading role, "JOSEPH!"

"Na aaaah." He bit at his lip for a moment and gently stroked Star's neck.

"Well?"

"I'm the head angel."

"An angel? The head angel?"

"Yup, the one who says `Fear not, for I bring you glad tidings of great joy."

Enlightenment shown on Dillon's face, "And your sheets were supposed to be your robes?"

Chris nodded, "What am I gonna do? It's bad enough being an angel."

Dillon smiled, he wasn't raising a deranged sheet slasher after all, "How soon do you need this costume

"The pageant is Friday, the 23rd – the last day of school before Christmas vacation. But Miss Bowman wants the costumes at school by Thursday."

"That gives us plenty of time. Okay, between the four of us, we can come up with something."

"Doncha think we should ask Mama what to do?"

Dillon shook his head. "Nope. She's busy with the Long Branch. Don't you worry son, between Doc, Festus and me, we'll have you lookin' like the best damn angel there ever was."


	6. Chapter 6

**Six**

They started working on the costume that very night. Doc was deemed handiest with a needle and thread, since he'd had so much practice sewing Matt up over the years. A fresh sheet was procured from the linen closet and the old man began eyeing up the situation. Matt declared he would rig up the wings and Festus was put in charge of the halo.

"What about me?" Chris asked.

"You just learn your lines son." Matt advised.

So as Chris stood on a kitchen chair rehearsing his lines, Doc draped the sheet over the child's frame. "Stop fidgeting boy." He ordered.

From behind, Matt calculated the appropriate wingspan using a yardstick courtesy of Mr. Lathrup's Dodge City Mercantile. "Turn a bit Chris and hold out your arms, so I can measure you." he requested.

"Stand still." Adams ordered.

"Hold out your arms." Dillon countered.

From the far side of the room Festus acted as audience. "Say your piece agin, Christopher. Only louder this time, so thems thats a sittin' in the back can hear ya." he coached.

Taking a deep breath, the boy tried once more. This time imagining a room filled with people, he recited his lines at the top of his voice.

Adams took the pins out of his mouth long enough to say, "For heaven's sake, you don't have to shout, just speak loudly and articulate and enunciate!"

"Huh?" Chris asked.

"Speak clearly and say it like you mean it." Matt advised.

Festus Hagen possessed great patience and understanding where children were concerned. He moved closer to the little boy and explained, "Don't cha see, Christopher? God done sent you to be his especial messenger, so's you could tell folks about the little baby Jesus. He wouldn't just pick any old angel. He picked his bestest, I guarantee it."

**GS GS GS**

Matt lay awake in bed that night trying to decide on materials for Christopher's angel wings. Christopher needed solid, substantial wings, befitting a masculine seraph. Dillon knew the boy was uneasy about being identified in what most perceived as a feminine role. He finally decided to use the left over lumber from last fall's barn repair.

The following morning, with the aid of his jigsaw, Matt cut the barn wood in the shape of wings and whitewashed it. For added effect, he glued chicken feathers from the recently consumed pullet to the heavenly appendages.

Hagen's contribution was a halo fashioned from barbed wire. He had pricked his fingers several times in the process and uttered more than one unholy oath at the wire. But he was pleased with the finished product until Doc had told him it looked more like a `crown of thorns' than a halo. After giving the task some thought the hill-man decided to paint the wire the same bright yellow he had used to paint the interior of the outhouse.

The twins and Puppy met Chris at the door that afternoon. "Th-pith (surprise Chris) Chwith. Th-pith!" chirped Bethy who had a better command of the language than the hyperactive Jimmy. Grabbing his mittened hands the twins led him through the kitchen to Doc's room. Standing in front of the old man's bed were Marshal, Festus and Doctor Adams, the three had smiles on their faces reminiscent of the cat who swallowed the canary. As Chris watched the three stepped away from the bed.

The child followed the direction of their gaze. On the bed, spread out in its glory was his angelic rainment.

The little boy was speechless. "Try it on!" Doc encouraged with a smile.

"Looky at that there halo... I made that fer ya." Festus boasted with his chest puffed out. "and Matthew, he dun made the wings. Them are real feathers, of course theys chick'n feathers, but least ways theys white, or purt near white. Even that old quackity quack scutter Doc dun somethin', he sewed up your dress."

Christopher winced. The ensemble looked like the end result of some sort of great chicken coop catastrophe. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, hoping when he looked again it would be gone.

"Go on son, try it on." Matt coaxed helping Chris remove his winter jacket and mittens. Gently he pulled the boy by the shoulders to stand before the mirror on Doc's dresser. Turning to Festus he said, "Toss me the dress."

Matt held it over Christopher's head and the boy worked his hands through the uneven sleeves. Poor Doc's eyesight was failing him and the hem of the angel gown had more dips and waves than Silver Creek in a rainstorm.

"Now for the wings ..." Matt requested. Festus couldn't toss these, they required a two handed grip and needed to be tied on with leather straps. Chris felt the weight of the feathered planks pull him backward and he had to lean forward in order to counteract its pull.

"Now put this here on." Festus said holding the halo in his hands. With all the pomp of an archbishop crowning the heir to the thrown the aging hillbilly placed the halo on the child's head.

"Chwith, funny." Bethy lisped.

Festus bent down to pick the little girl up and hold her high in his arms. "No darlin'. See he's an angel. Lookee at his purdy halo."

"Chwith, funny." she repeated with a giggle.

All Chris could do was to stare at his likeness in the mirror. How could he stand in front of an audience in this get-up, especially since he knew the Harris girls would be dressed more elaborately than the original heavenly hosts and standing on either side of him?

His eyes strayed from his image to the reflections of Marshal, Doc and Festus. Their faces looked so full of pride. Could it be they honestly felt they had done a good job? Maybe they had, the young boy reasoned. After all he was just a little kid, what did he know?

Matt gave him a gentle slap to the shoulder almost throwing him off balance again, "By golly! That looks fine son, just fine."

"Heaven's yes. Best angel I've ever seen." Doc agreed, bolstering Christopher's confidence a little more.

"Say your piece Christopher, just like I learned ya." Festus begged.

Adjusting his shoulders to ease the strain the wings were putting on them, Chris nodded and began, "Fear not, for I bring you glad tidings of great joy..."


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven**

The saloon was busy, not only with customers but also year-end paperwork, inventories and the like. Kitty hardly had the opportunity to step out the doors, for if it wasn't balancing the ledgers keeping her tied to the building, it was handling the bar duties which Sam normally took care of or playing hostess as Miss Hannah would have. In her spare moments when she gave in to the heartache of being away from home at Christmas, she would shoulder the guilt of not baking Christmas cookies, decorating the house, or shopping for gifts. However, the heaviest burden was the precious time spent apart from Christopher and the twins. She was wise enough to know that time lost could never be fully reclaimed.

After his visit, Matt showed disapproval by keeping his distance. He was angry with her, not just for the decision to help out at the Long Branch, but also for what he perceived as Kitty's choice of her old life style over their new one. He forbid Doc and Festus to have contact with her and as for Christopher he'd told the boy under no circumstances was he to walk down to the saloon after school.

"… but why?" Christopher had asked.

That Dillon didn't have a good answer proved no hindrance in giving one, "She's busy." He sputtered.

The boy didn't consider that much of a reply but he knew Marshal well enough to let the subject drop. It bothered him though because the security he'd come to count on seemed threatened without the feminine presence of a mother figure. What if she stayed in town forever and never came back to the ranch? That was a possibility to horrible to even think of so the Chris put it off, figuring one disaster at a time was enough for any nine-year-old to deal with.

**GS GS GS**

The day before the pageant all the children were to come to school with their costumes. When Chris came down to the kitchen that morning he saw the unlikely spectacle of Marshal standing in front of the ironing board. Matt looked up from his work to explain, "I thought I'd better give your dress a little pressing before you take it to school."

Chris winced at the word 'dress' he wanted to say it's not a dress, but in looking at the garment that's exactly what it was, and not a very decent one at that. The finished product was folded after a fashion, wrapped in brown paper with the yellow painted barbed wire halo tucked inside the package. The whole thing was tied up with twine bow.

He was met with a few strange stares and giggles as he hauled his wings into the Roniger's wagon. "What in blue blazes is that?" Benny asked giving a nudge to his triplet brothers.

"They're my angel wings." Christopher said hoping the boys would just let it go at that.

"Angel wings!" hooted Tommy, "Heck they look more like something the bat rode outa hell on!"

Will Roniger turned around to glance at Christopher and get a good look at what the kids were having such a time over. "You boys hush up now." To Chris he said, "those look like mighty substantial wings, real manly like."

"Yeah, just what he needs to go with his dress…"

"Ya got your dress wrapped up in that pretty package _Christina_?"

"Ho Ho, that's a good one, _Christina_ the _little angel_."

Will turned around again and there was no mistaking he meant business, "That's about enough back there, one more word and I'm gonna stop this wagon, and make you three boys get out and walk the rest of the way to school."

Will's threat stopped the words, but not the faces the three ten-year-old brothers made at Chris.

It didn't get any better at school, for if his best friends gave him grief it was nothing compared to the smirks and jokes which were aimed in his direction. The little boy was a good sport, or at least he was trying to be. But he wished he had Miss Kitty around to talk to, she had a way of helping him put life in perspective. He tried to think what she would have told him. But nothing came into his head.

Instead he remembered a long ago talk he'd had with Marshal about the meaning of bravery, how it was doing something even though you were afraid to do it. He figured somehow that applied in this case and so he steeled himself for the `_dress_' rehearsal. A stage was set up on the far wall in the basement of the school building. Folding chairs had been arranged in rows and decorations of paper snowflakes and colored paper chains hung from the ceiling. On the stage sat the stable, which also doubled as the platform for the head angel and the heavenly hosts. When it came to the part in the play where the angel goes to the hillside to bring the glad tidings to the shepherds and their sheep, a black curtain was placed over the front of the stable. Stairs went up the back of the little structure with the head angel standing on the uppermost step and the heavenly hosts taking up the rest of the downward stairs.

Each of the seven angels had a black sheet to hold in front of their bodies to conceal them from the audience. When the scene opened the sheep were grazing and the shepherds were giving them not so gentle prods with their staffs, one prod caused six-year-old Billy Bob Kent to add a few wails to his, "baaaa baaa."

"Shepherds!" Miss Bowman scolded, "Please refrain from poking the sheep." She looked in the direction of the stable steps to see the angels were in place.

"Now Christopher, lower your sheet, and then begin your speech and remember I want to be able to hear you and understand you from the very back chair."

On each side of Christopher, standing a step lower were the Harris girls with their beautiful angelic faces and perfect attire. Chris took a deep gulp of air and began. "Fear not … for I bring you glad tidings of great joy… For … For… "

"For unto you is born…" the teacher prompted.

" … for unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior… which is Christ the Lord … and this shall be a sign unto you. ….."

"You will find…" Miss Bowman coached.

"You will find the Babe wrapped with swapping clothes and lying in a manger."

"swaddling clothes …" she corrected, "that means he was wrapped tightly in a blanket to make him feel safe and secure. Okay heavenly hosts lower your black sheets and look at me for the signal to begin singing." The angels moved to lowered their sheets and as Hortense did she accidentally nudged Chris throwing him and his gigantic wooded wings off balance for a moment he teetered at the top step flapping his arms wildly trying to regain his equilibrium as a collectively gasped `Ohhhhh" came from the heavenly chorus. It was touch and go for a second or two. Propelled by panic Miss Bowman shot to the stage just as the little boy righted himself.

"Christopher please be careful, we can't have our head angel taking a tumble before the big show."

"Yes Miss Bowman." Chris answered. He shrugged his shoulders to ease the ache from carrying the weight of the wings for so long.

"Alright boys and girls lets take that scene from the top."

They went through the production twice more before the end of school for the day without further mishap. Before her students headed out the door, Miss Bowman gave them a final reminder. "Remember every family needs to bring two dozen cookies for the social and bake sale after the play. Tell your parents to arrive at school no later than 1:30 for the pageant."


	8. Chapter 8

**Eight**

The cookies! Christopher had nearly forgotten about the cookies. He sat in the Roniger wagon as they headed home from school worrying about how he was going to bake cookies. He didn't even listen to the teasing comments the Roniger triplets were tossing his way.

Marshal wasn't home when he got there, "He's got a Cattleman's Meeting tonight," Doc explained as he dished soup into bowls for supper. "He won't be home until late."

Festus was busy wrestling with the twin's bibs. "How'd your practice go Chris?"

"Oh, it went okay I guess."

"I bet no one never seed an angel the likes a you."

"That's a safe bet." Chris replied as he busied himself with his soup. He was thinking he could try to bake cookies on his own. Doc always went to bed right after supper. And Festus would head down to the bunkhouse as soon as the twins were put to bed. He'd watched Miss Kitty make cookies before, even did some of the measuring, so he was sure he'd be able to concoct some sort of cookie.

It all worked out just as Christopher planned except for one little hitch Festus didn't retire to the bunkhouse after the twins were in bed; in fact he seemed bent on spending time with the little boy.

"How 'bout you and me play us a game of checkers?" he offered.

"I'm kinda tired Uncle Festus, maybe tomorrow night."

"Ah fiddle, a big boy like you, I reckon you got one game of checkees in you tonight."

It appeared to Chris that Festus was being deliberately nice to him, and it was true any other night he would have relished the opportunity to hone is checker playing skills. It came to him that maybe someone, like the Marshal had suggested to Festus to keep an eye on the boy.

It was near the end of the game just before Christopher played the winning move that he confessed about the cookies.

"Is that what's got your tail feathers in an uproar tonight? I thought you was acting a might skittish. Time's a wasting, you climb up on that cupboard and get down Miss Kitty's cookbook and I'll stoke up the fire.

They worked pretty well together; Christopher read the recipe while Festus mixed the ingredients. Of course Hagen wasn't opposed to fudging on the ingredients here and there, adding a little more salt and a little less sugar, what could it hurt? But the end result at least looked like the cookie dough did when Miss Kitty made it. They rolled out the mixture and used a star shaped cutter for the cookies. "Mama always sprinkles them with red sugar. You know how to make red sugar Uncle Festus?"

Hagen scratched his head there by depositing a dusting of flour and crumbs of cookie dough in his hair. "Well, I reckon it ain't so hard to do, all we need is to mix the sugar with something red." Both males let their eyes wander around Kitty's once fastidious kitchen. They weren't looking at the disaster they'd created but for that mystical ingredient to turn white sugar to red. Hagen opened the cupboard and spied Miss Kitty's bottle of Tabasco sauce. He'd seen her use it to season her cooking, he couldn't rightly recollect what. But, he figured the color was right and besides beggars couldn't be choosers.

So they placed several cups of sugar in a mixing bowl and added four tablespoons of Tabasco and mixed it well. "It's pretty wet, but the color looks good." Christopher declared.

"I reckon we gots to dry it some, doncha see." He took one of Kitty's beautiful white kitchen towels. Miss Pry had hand embroidered them with a stylized "D" and presented them to the Dillon's as a wedding gift. Without a second thought, Festus dumped the red sugar on the pristine cloth. "This here will sop up all the extree sauce."

When the surplus moisture had been soaked up by the linen cloth the red sugar was sprinkled on the cut out cookies and they were placed in the over. They smelled good baking and both Chris and Festus were eager to taste the fruit of their labor. They were more than a little surprised when Festus pulled the pan from the oven, for the cookies had puffed to three times the normal size.

"Wow!" Chris exclaimed. "I've never seen cookies like these before."

"What'd I tell you, us Hagens is natural born cookie makers." Festus scraped the cookies off the sheet and refilled it with a new batch of doughy cutouts.

"You think we could eat one Uncle Festus?"

"I reckon it would be wrong ifn' we didn't." Hagen replied. "You set yourself down at the table and I'll pour us some milk."

Chris waited until Festus was seated beside him before he picked up a cookie, he had to open his mouth extra wide to accommodate the fat confection, but when he tried to bite through the cookie he found it was like biting into hard baked clay, and he nearly loosened a tooth in his effort.

Festus picked up his cookie and rapped it against the edge of the table, knocking a chip from the wood.

**GS GS GS**

Several miles down Silver Creek Road, past the Roniger place stood the sign for Moon Bar Ranch. A magnificent home, newly built stood just yards from where the old Bart Homestead had been. Only a year old it was without a doubt the grandest home Ford County had ever known. Up in their second story bedroom suite Hortense Harris stood atop her four-poster bed reciting the head angel's speech. Her sister Lavinia padded into the room fresh from the bath tub with her hair in rag curls. "What are you doing?"

"I'm practicing."

"For what?"

"For tomorrow."

"Huh? Have you gone loopy? We don't have any words to practice. Christopher's got the lines."

"Yeah, he's got the lines, but …. what happens if he just happens to loose his balance again and he falls over backward… and can't say his lines… what happens then? I'll tell you what happens... I'm going to move up to that top step and I'll take my rightful place as head angel."


	9. Chapter 9

**Nine**

Meanwhile that same night at the Long Branch Saloon, Kitty Dillon looked up from her duties behind the bar to see Miss Bowman pass through the double doors. Kitty motioned for Lettie to take her place as bartender while she moved out front to extend her hand in welcome to the teacher.

Concealing the surprise in her voice, Kitty greeted, "Miss Bowman, how nice to see you."

"Mrs. Dillon, forgive me for disturbing you at work, but there is something I wish to discuss with you."

All eyes were staring at the prim little teacher and though Kitty knew her to be a spunky woman she never the less understood she might be feeling a little out of place. "Shall we step into the office, we'll have privacy there." Kitty took the lead and Bonnie Bowman followed.

"Have a seat; I'll pour us a cup of coffee."

"If you don't mind, I'd prefer something a little bit stronger."

"Sherry?"

"After the day I've had … make mine rye whiskey."

Kitty smiled and chuckled, "I've often wondered how you keep your sanity."

"Oh, I don't drink often, but when the opportunity presents itself, I have no compunctions against libation."

Kitty set the drink in front of the teacher and than took a chair beside her, "What can I help you with Miss Bowman?"

"This is a little awkward and my intent is not to pry into personal matters, but there is a great deal of gossip going on concerning you and your husband. Some folks are saying you've left him, others have said he asked you to leave. Having seen the two of you together in the past, I tend to believe there is a reasonable explanation whichinvolves neither answer."

Kitty smiled, "Dodge has always loved to speculate on the relationship between Matt and myself. I imagine the gossipmongers have been a little bored these last two years when we've done nothing any more out of the ordinary than change diapers and work to put food on the table. The truth of the matter is simply this. I still own controlling interest in the Long Branch. Miss Hannah is down with pneumonia, Sam is visiting his sister and I've come back to the saloon to help out during their absence. Believe me as soon as Hannah is well enough to resume her duties I'll return to mine at the ranch."

"I'm relieved to hear that. I was afraid there might have been a falling out between you and Mr. Dillon and of course that would affect Christopher. Actually I was worried you may not have been aware tomorrow is the pageant and Christopher is playing the headangel."

Kitty set down her glass and stared at the teacher.

"Oh my," Miss Bowman said, "You didn't know about Christopher's role did you? I suspected as much, I couldn't imagine how any mother would let her child play the head angel with a costume like Chris came to school with today."

Kitty reached out a hand and placed it on Miss Bowman's "What do you mean?" She asked.

The teacher than went into detail describing the barn wood wings and barbed wire halo. "Now, I'm sure Mr. Dillon, Mr. Hagen and Doctor Adams put a great deal of thought and time into the project, but …"

Kitty glanced at the clock ticking on the office wall. "If I get right to work, I think I can put together something more befitting of the head angel than barn wood and barbed wire."

"I was hoping you'd say that." She rose from her seat,"I won't keep you from your work than Mrs. Dillon. We've asked the parents to be at school no later than 1:30 tomorrow afternoon, but the sooner you can have the costume ready the better."

Kitty walked Miss Bowman to the door of the saloon; "I'll see you tomorrow." She said in farewell.

Back at the bar she told Lettie, "We'll be closing at eight this evening Lettie. That's in twenty-five minutes."

"But Miss Kitty, the Cattlemen's meeting is tonight …" Lettie looked forward to the one night a month when the area ranchers descended on Dodge for their get-together. The pretty saloon girl had no doubt one of those wealthy cattle barons would ask for her hand in marriage and she only wished to hurry the day.

"Eight o'clock Lettie..."

"Yes'm... Oh … Miss Kitty I nearly forgot…While you were in the office with the school marm, Mr. Dillon came by. He said I should tell you to meet him at the school house at quarter after one tomorrow for the children's program and that the twins would be staying with Ma Smalley during the performance."

She brightened, "Matt was here!" She ran to the door to look up and down the street."

Lettie moved behind her, "He's long gone, Ma'am."

At midnight that same evening Kitty sat on her bed sewing frantically on what she hoped would be her adopted son's angel wings. She'd sewn to wire shapes, the netting from an amber colored gown complete with shimmery sequins to form the gossamer appendages.

At six that morning she was gluing gold braiding to form a circular crown for the halo. By midmorning she was cutting down a petticoat for his angel robes, removing the ruffles and using the extra fabric for bell shaped sleeves. She added a touch more of the gold braiding down the front. As the First Methodist Church bells struck twelve noon, she was laying the ensemble on the bed to admire her work. She looked down at herself. She wasn't even dressed yet.

She made haste to get changed, not bothering with anything fancy, and twisting her hair in only the simplest of dos. She threw a cape over her shoulders and plopped a hat on her head and raced down the stairs and out of the saloon with the costume packed securely in a cardboard box. The boardwalk was icy and several times she skidded and slipped.

Even from a distance she could see the school yard was filled with carriages and parents were piling into the brick building. As she neared she could make out their own buggy rigged with runners to accommodate the snowy road. Matt, Festus and Doc were already there.

Standing at the front door, with his hat in his hand was Matt Dillon. His expression was grim and clearly it was his intent to remain aloof but seeing her, melted away his resolve. "I was worried you weren't going to make it." He said grabbing her arm. He took in the circles under her eyes and her unglamorous appearance and it came to him suddenly that she had been working hard just as he had.

"I was worried too." She let him pull her along through the crowded school, and down the stairs.

"What's in the box?""A surprise … actually I should find Miss Bowman and give it to her."

"No time now, the pageant is about to begin … come on Doc saved our seats."

"But … I have Christopher's …"

Dillon ignored her words, "Wait until you see the costume Doc, Festus and I rigged up. It took some planning to figure out what to do, but I think you'll be real impressed when you see it."

She glanced at her husband and saw the pride in his voice and imagined that same pride in Festus and Doc. Suddenly it didn't seem to matter if Christopher's wings were made of gossamer or barn wood, what mattered was they were a creation of love.

Miss Bowman saw Kitty and pushed her way through the milling parents. Leaning over a row of chairs she said, "Thank heaven's you got here in time. Do you have it?"

Kitty shook her head, "No, I'm sorry Miss Bowman, I, I didn't have time to make it." Bonnie saw the box and looked at the saloon mistress with a puzzled expression. Kitty gave her head a slight shake, "I'm sure things will precede just fine without my involvement this year, but next year you can expect my full participation."

The teacher understood, she didn't exactly agree, for she was sure what was in that box would certainly improve the appearance of her production. "I'll hold you to that Kitty. Well, in that case, it's show time."


	10. Chapter 10

**Ten**

The audience quieted some in anticipation of the production as the shades were pulled on the half windows and a spot light rigged with lanterns and reflectors cast a light on the stage. Matt leaned over and whispered to Kitty, "I thought you wanted to give that to Christopher's teacher."

"It can wait." She replied, offering him a loving smile. He smiled back. The curtain was pulled open and Ann Roniger stepped out on the stage as one of the narrators for the production.

The whole pageant seemed to be going along without a hitch, oh there were little calamities like the first grader who clearly had to go to the potty, and the narrator who had the hiccups and couldn't get through his speech. Finally, the time came for the angels and shepherd scene. The spotlight was shaded and the drape placed over the stable and the angels took their place on the steps behind the little building. Each one was holding his own sheet high to cover themselves from view, only their little fingers showed at the tops of the dark sheets. The spotlight turned to the shepherds and sheep as the narrator began, "And it came to pass in the same country shepherds were watching their flock by night and the angel of the Lord came to them." The light shifted to focus on the top of the stable as Christopher lowered his black sheet.

With the sheet as her cover, Hortense leaned over and gave a hard push; she misjudged Christopher's position and hit her own sister, who was standing on the other side of Chris. This action causing a domino effect sending three little angels tumbling down the steps. Hortense was so shocked that she lost her own balance and ended up wiping out her side of angels as well, in a matter of seconds the heavenly hosts were in a pile on the stage floor.

Christopher alone remained standing, for a moment he hesitated, and then performed in a manner which made his family proud. As his co angels were scrambling from the heaps to climb up the stairs again, Christopher stood proud, with barn wood wings and barbed wire halo he proclaimed in a loud clear voice. "Fear not for I bring you glad tidings of great joy…"

**GS GS GS**

Everyone agreed at the social, which followed the pageant, that Christopher's performance had been most memorable. Truth be told the young man would never completely live down the year he was head angel in the Dodge City Public School Christmas production.

Memorable as well were the cookies he and Festus had made together. Miss Bowman quickly discerned these gigantic stars were no ordinary sugar cookies but those made from salt dough. The ever resourceful teacher hastily glued red ribbons to the back of each star and sold them as Christmas tree ornaments for fifteen cents a piece, earning enough money from the proceeds to provide her classroom with a new map of the United States. Immediately after the pageant, Kitty so happy to be back in the bosom of her family declared the saloon closed until after Christmas. She had little doubt that she could at some point recoup her losses at the Long Branch but she wasn't going to risk losing any more precious time with her loved ones.


	11. Chapter 11

**Eleven**

There were not as many presents as usual under the Christmas tree that year and those that were there were rather hastily wrapped with lopsided bows. But there was a roasted turkey in the oven and rum cake cooling on the counter. Kitty scooped up her babies in her arms and said a mother's prayer of thanks, bestowing amen kisses to each downy head before setting the squirming twins back to the floor.

Christmas dinner was a plentiful feast with each member of the family recounting their part in the pageant. Once again Kitty was grateful for the intuition, which had caused her to keep quiet the costume she'd created. It was obvious the men in her life felt a great sense of accomplishment.

With the dinner dishes dried and put away Kitty and Matt shared a loving hug. "I had in mind a little something more for you this Christmas." The tall Cowboy whispered. His breath was warm against her ear.

"You did?"

"Um Hmmmm." He replied. His forefinger guided her chin until their lips met.

She pulled away slightly and confessed, "You know I had something special ordered for you too, but it didn't come in time."

"Maybe we'll have to celebrate the holiday all over again …"

"Oh Cowboy, I don't think I can handle another Christmas. I'm feeling lucky to have survived this one."

"I know the feeling." He agreed taking advantage of her lips again. They shared one more kiss, this one deeper and more fervent than the last; Matt was just about to suggest they retire to the bedroom for a little private time when the sound of sleigh bells interrupted their retreat.

He looked down at her with an almost comical scowl, "Now who do you suppose that is?"

Before she could respond there was a knock at the front entrance and they could hear Doc opening the door. Hannah's voice boomed "Merry Christmas." They could hear Ma Smalley, Burke and Newly as well.

Kitty straightened her shirtwaist and patted her hair in place, while Matt adjusted his trousers. "Kitty you go on and say hello to our guests, I'll put on a pot of coffee. I'll be out in a few minutes."

She smiled at him and reached up on tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek, "Don't be long." She admonished.

When he came out a few minutes later he found his company standing around the Christmas tree admiring its decorations. Festus was showing Miss Hannah one of the famous star cookies.

"I'd heard about them Festus, but I didn't believe it."

"Well ma'am these is extree special. Us Hagens is famous fer em."

"Merry Christmas," Matt greeted. He noticed Newly was carrying several packages and he cast a worried look in Kitty's direction. With all the commotion of their holiday season there were no extra presents for their Dodge friends.

"We brought something for Christopher and the twins," Newly said as he handed a long thin box to the boy and two smaller ones to the toddlers. Chris ripped the box open to find his very own Winchester 22. He glanced at Kitty and then at Marshal hoping they wouldn't say something like he wasn't old enough for a real gun. But they didn't, instead Marshal said, "I'd been giving thought to getting Chris a hunting rifle, thanks Newly that looks like a fine weapon." Dillon smiled at the boy, "Of course you know Christopher a gun like that carries a lot of responsibility?"

"Yes sir." Chris answered seriously.

Meanwhile the twins were ripping through the paper on their presents to reveal identical cowhide tom-toms. Immediately they began banging against every surface of the little drums.

There were still two presents in Newly's pile, "What else have you got there Mr. Newly?" Christopher asked.

O'Brien smiled, "Well, actually these are presents from Marshal to Miss Kitty, and from Miss Kitty to Marshal."

"How'd you get em?" Chris wondered aloud.

Hannah stepped in. "The package for Matt was delivered to the Long Branch yesterday morning and Mary Helgemoe asked Newly to deliver the gift Matt asked her to make for Kitty."

"Open them up!" Chris begged, happy to have things back to normal in the Dillon household.

Doc and Festus moved in closer to watch as Matt opened up the large box, which Hannah had decorated with a bright red bow. Inside was the buckskin coat Kitty had ordered for Matt. The smell of leather filled the room, clearly Matt was pleased with the gift, and when he put it on it was a perfect fit. He moved to stand in front of the mirror admiring the quality of the cut.

"Now yours Mama." Chris encouraged.

She was four long strides away from him when he recalled what was in the box. The negligee was certainly not something he wanted a room full of company to see, but she'd ripped it open before he had a chance to stop her. Amid tissue paper rested the silk and satin garment with the two tickets to St Louis on top just as he'd asked Mary Helgemoe to do when he had first commissioned the project.

She seemed to forget for the moment they were not alone, "Oh Matt it's beautiful, absolutely beautiful," she murmured running a finger under the sheer fabric.

"What did she get?" Festus asked not all that familiar with ladies nightwear.

The old doctor chuckled, "Looks to me like Matt was the recipient of both presents, something to keep him warm when he goes outside, and something to keep him warm when he stays in for the evening."

It was time for Ma Smalley to step to the forefront, "I have a little announcement to make." She proclaimed as all eyes turned in her direction. "Bessie Roniger mentioned to me how she was going to watch after the twins while you and Matt took that long overdue honeymoon."

Kitty nodded and Matt moved closer to wrap an arm around his wife, "We've waited this long I guess we can wait a little longer, at least until Bessie gets back on her feet some."

"That's just it, Marshal, I don' think you and Kitty should have to wait, Now young master Christopher and I are old friends, I'd like the chance to get to know those twins of yours a little bit better. I'm offering to watch the kids while the two of you take that trip you keep promising each other."

Matt couldn't help but grin from ear to ear while Kitty still recovering from the guilt of abandoning her family put up a mild protest, "Oh Ma, we couldn't ask you to do that … you don't know these two wild Indians of mine. They'll have your house in shambles…"

Ma's lips curled upward, understanding guilt was parcel and part to motherhood, "Well, you know I did raise three young'ins of my own, but if it'd make you feel better I'll call in reinforcements." She glanced at Doc, "Dr. Adams, how would you like to spend a few weeks in town?"

The old man grinned, "If it'll spare me two weeks of Hagen cooking I'm all yours…"

Amid the chuckles of their guests, Kitty ushered them into the dining room for rum cake and coffee topped off with a little of her special egg nog.

Dillon lingered behind; from his perspective in the front parlor he could see his friends gathering at his dinner table, he could hear the laughter of his children and the happy voice of his wife as she encouraged everyone to help themselves. Matt Dillon smiled; he didn't know quite how it had happened that a lawman should end up this lucky.

Kitty put down the coffee pot when she saw him still in the parlor, "Ma would you mind pouring?" she asked and the older lady took her place.

She hurried to the parlor, "Matt?" she questioned with a note of worry in her voice, "Is something wrong?"

He moved closer to Kitty. Wrapping an arm around her, he gave her a squeeze, their eyes met and the connection was made, "No ma'am for once, everything is just right."

Peace on Earth


End file.
